New Beginnings
by C23
Summary: AU - a retelling of the story after the Whiteout of e3. A long lost transporter approaches, bringing new people to Forthaven. Tate is disturbed by visions of his children. What is Cass' link to the captain of the new transporter? What are Berger's plans?
1. Chapter 1

The shouting came from the living area. He walked through from his bedroom to find chaos abounded; a chess set scattered in pieces on the floor and two small boys rolling around aiming punches at each other. He jumped in the middle and, with some difficulty, pulled them apart; feeling their muscles strain under his grip in their eagerness to continue their brawl.

"He started it," one boy began.

"No, he did," the other protested.

"Dad!"

"Dad!"

The unwelcome buzz of the comm system wrenched him, reluctantly, from the arms of his dream. He awoke on the sofa, fully clothed, confused and disoriented, the insistent electronic buzz still ringing in his ears. Dragging himself to his feet, he wandered to the wall panel and pressed a button on the intercom. "This is Tate."

"Sir," the voice of one of the night shift ops betrayed controlled excitement. "We've picked something up on the long range scanner. I think you need to see this."

"What is it?"

"We believe it is another transporter."

"Any communication yet?" Tate was already pulling on his shoes.

"No sir, we're trying to raise them."

"Keep trying, I'm on my way."

Tate headed to the door, about to leave, his fingers resting on the exit panel as he paused for a moment. He gave a glance toward the chess board on the table.

"See you later, lads," he murmured, before he shook his head at his own idiocy and hurried to the ops room."

* * *

"What do we know?" Stella asked.

After speaking to the night ops team, Tate had hastily arranged an early morning key staff briefing. Apart from Stella, those present were Cass, Fleur, Jack, the head of communications, the head of supplies and several members of the Council, including Julius Berger. Stella wasn't sure if he had been explicitly invited, or if Tate was simply humouring him.

"It's CT8. From what we can gather it left Earth seven years ago, and when it failed to arrive after the usual five year journey we assumed it was lost," Tate explained. "So far our efforts to communicate have failed."

"No one home?" Cass mused.

"It could be a failure of their long range sensors", Stella interjected. "They'll be in visual range within three hours. Let's hope we can communicate at that point."

"They're two years late," Jack muttered. "Why?"

"I don't know," Tate shrugged. "That will be one of my questions, assuming we can speak to them."

"We should make preparations for their arrival," Julius began. "The survivors will need support; guidance. With your permission I…"

"Thank you, Julius," Tate snapped. "With respect, I would rather wait until we make successful contact with the ship and find out what we're dealing with. For all we know it could be a floating morgue. At the moment our efforts must focus on repairing the damage from the Whiteout."

"Of course. I respect your decision, President Tate." Julius nodded, his face impassive.

"I will keep you all informed of any developments." Tate rose. "If you'll excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. Stella, with me, please."

Stella stood, and walked with Tate back towards his office.

"You know Daniel can't be on that ship, don't you?" Tate asked gently.

"I know," Stella nodded, her eyes clouding for a moment, before she clicked back into efficiency mode. "CT8 is an A-Class transporter, built to take a crew of ten thousand. If they're alive up there, and survive the landing, that is a lot of new arrivals to accommodate. I'm not sure, given our recent circumstances, that we are in a position to cope."

"We have no choice. If they are alive then we will welcome them in any way we can. We had nothing when we first arrived and we managed. We may just have to get creative."

"Well, we'll know in three hours," Stella smiled. "Julius is chomping at the bit to be the welcoming committee."

"Recruiting new flock for his church, no doubt," Tate sighed.

They reached Tate's office and Stella paused. "Out of all the people to find God..."

"Ah, but he prefers a less 'divisive term,'" Tate made quotation marks with his fingers to emphasise the point. "But, if it gives comfort to people, then who are we to argue?"

"True enough. I'm going to get an updated damage report on accommodation and supplies," Stella said. "At least that will give us an idea of where we stand."

"See you back here in three hours then." Tate nodded to Stella, and then stepped through the door into his office. For a split second he thought he saw someone in the corner of the room, but when he turned his head they were gone. _That's what you get for not sleeping_, he chided himself, as he sat as his desk and flicked on the monitor. The pulsing image of CT8 swam into view; so near and yet so far.

Tate shook his head. Maybe, just this once, he would be with Julius in asking his higher power for a miracle.


	2. Chapter 2

"Here goes nothing," Tate sighed. "CT8, do you read me? CT8, please respond."

Three hours had passed and the technicians were confident that the craft should be in range for visual contact. There was nothing, however; only static.

"Try modulating the signal. Try every frequency," Stella instructed.

The technician manipulated a control panel. "CT8, come in. CT8, this is Carpathia, do you respond?"

There was a loud hiss of static, a crackle and then - something! A faint voice? Stella and Tate shared a look, hardly daring to hope.

"CT8, please, do you read me?" Tate repeated. "Please respond."

Another deafening static hiss emitted from the speakers, followed by a quiet, distorted voice. "Carpathia? This… 8… respond..."

"CT8, we are having trouble hearing you. Switch to channel 492," the technician replied, twisting dials on the comm panel. "CT8, are you receiving us?"

Suddenly the view screens burst into life. After a bright shower of interference, a woman's face appeared on screen. "There you are!" Relief was evident in her voice. "Carpathia, this is CT8. Do you read me?"

Around the ops room the sigh of relief was palpable. Tate's face broke into a smile. "Yes, CT8 we read you loud and clear. I am President Richard Tate of Forthaven, Carpathia; this is Stella Isen, Head of Protection and Security. To whom am I speaking?"

"Acting Captain Jayne Williams," the woman on the monitor grinned. "Am I happy to see you, Carpathia!"

"Likewise. We had given you up for lost." Tate replied.

Jayne's smile faltered. "We've had a difficult journey."

"How many are in your crew?"

"A little under one thousand."

Tate glanced at Stella. "We expected ten times that."

"It was difficult, as I said. A virus swept the ship, soon after we left Earth. We suffered catastrophic losses."

"I am sorry to hear that. We have had some experience of that here."

"I'm transmitting the ship's log, President. I have kept it up to date as best I can. The virus wiped out almost the entire crew. I was elected Captain and we recruited and trained our current crew from those left standing. We might be a bit unorthodox, and very behind schedule, but we got here eventually."

"Better late than never," Tate smiled. "How is the ship?"

"Fairly good. Some damage to the thermal shields, nothing too major."

Tate's heart sank with familiarity. "You will need to fix that before you attempt your approach. We've lost previous transporters on entry with similar issues."

Jayne nodded. "I'll get a team on it. We're not specialists, President, but we'll do what we can."

"It has to be repaired, Captain. I cannot begin to stress how vital it is. Send your stats to my team and we'll see what we can do to help from here."

"We've managed to get halfway across the solar system so far on our own," Jayne raised an eyebrow. "But, I appreciate the help. I'll send the details across."

"How are your people?" Stella asked.

"Mostly in good spirits. We're a tight unit, those of us still remaining. Many have lost their family and friends. They're hopeful for a fresh start."

"That's precisely what we can offer on Carpathia," Tate smiled.

"They'll be pleased to hear that." Off screen, someone handed a data tablet to Jayne. "Ok, I have the full damage report here. I'll send it across. I need to organise a repair detail and prepare the crew for landing. President Tate; Stella; I'll speak to you soon. Over and out."

"Over and out," Tate spoke as the view screen fizzled into darkness. "A ragtag crew, by the sounds of things," he murmured as he turned to Stella.

"President, they're sending across the log and damage reports," a technician called.

"Forward them through to my office. Stella, put the word out to the team to begin preparations for the arrival of one thousand new settlers. And try to keep Julius out of the way, if at all possible."

"Do you think they have a chance?" Stella asked, grimly.

"You heard the woman; they made it this far. I wouldn't bet against them just yet."

* * *

Cass's head nodded towards his chest, jerking him awake from his doze. He breathed heavily, yawned and wiped his hand across his face, before getting up and stretching his long frame. It had been a mistake to go to the bar before his shift.

He wandered around the president's office to try and help himself stay awake. He hated offices – he would much rather have been outside under the stars, even in the middle of the cold night. He checked his watch; 2am. He sighed and yawned again - five more hours to go. The President had set up a 24-hour rota, so that there would always be a member of his most trusted team available should the CT8 crew need to speak with somebody. Cass was under strict orders to wake Tate should anything important happen. Not that anything would. He'd taken over from Stella at midnight and there had been no contact from CT8 since 5pm. They were too busy patching up their ship with whatever they could find for the final approach. Cass felt his stomach turn. He already knew what the outcome was going to be, and he didn't want to think about it. He wished he had another beer.

A technician poked his head around the door. "Coffee?" he asked.

"Thanks, yeah," Cass smiled, and then sat back down behind Tate's desk, closing his eyes once more.

"Is this President Tate's elite PAS Team in action?" a woman's voice giggled. "Impressive!"

Cass's eyes started open. The view screen on Tate's desk had come to life and Jayne was watching him, a smile on her face.

"Oh, err… right. Hello," Cass stumbled, glancing at his watch, which now read 3.20am. He'd dropped off again. On the desk in front of him was a cup of coffee, obviously left by the technician. He took a sip and grimaced – it was cold.

"Oh dear. Hard night, is it?" Jayne teased.

"Sorry, I just…sorry," Cass sat back, now wide awake. "Cass Cromwell, Protection and Security. You must be the famous Acting Captain Jayne Williams."

"Famous? I don't like the sound of that," she smiled. "I'm sorry to wake you."

"Do you need Tate? I can get him."

"No," she shook her head. "No, I just…" She sighed. "I couldn't sleep. I just thought I'd see who was about. It's nice to know you're down there, you know?"

Cass looked at the face on the screen; a woman, somewhere in her 30s, with a large, kind smile. She looked tired, which was unsurprising really, given the circumstances. He smiled back. "You can talk to me if you like. I mean, my friend Fleur says I'm a crap listener and a bit of a smart arse, but I'm the best you're getting tonight."

Jayne laughed, and he liked the way her eyes flashed with mischief. "Okay, Mr Smarty Pants PAS Officer. In the absence of any real company, you'll have to do."

"Oh well, I'm honoured. I think."

"Don't get too cocky, I said you'll do. It's a choice between you and the automated waste disposal unit on here – and the waste disposal doesn't give me any cheek," she smirked.

Cass reached towards the monitor. "Well, I could just flick a switch and you'd be off…"

"Well I could just open an airlock and drop a space rock on your head..."

They both laughed.

"Actually," she said. "I do have a really important question to ask. Vital to the success of the mission."

Cass sat forward. "Yes?"

"Do you have alcohol on Carpathia?"

He grinned. "We do. Beer. It's not bad."

"Thank God for that!" Jayne exclaimed. "This lot might mutiny if they got down there and found no booze."

"I'll buy you the first round when you arrive," Cass grinned.

She sat back, raising an eyebrow. "That's not bad going. I've not even landed and I'm already on a promise."

Cass felt himself blush. "I... er... I meant..."

She laughed. "Only joking, Mr PAS Officer."

"I don't mind," he added quickly. "I mean, I'd be happy to… take you for a drink, I mean."

She cocked her head, regarding him. "You're on. But I'm warning you, it's been seven _very_ long years."

"Without a drink?"

"Without anything," she smiled. "Hope you can keep up."


	3. Chapter 3

Fleur walked through the doorway, shining her torch into the darkness. Nothing. She wandered back into the corridor, seeing the arc of light from Cass's torch ahead of her. "Anything?" She called.

"Nah, nothing here," Cass replied.

She went towards him, lifting her radio to her lips. "This is Fleur. Sector Twelve is all clear."

"Received," a voice crackled in reply.

"Must've been kids messing about," Cass guessed, kicking some debris with his boot. "Christ, what a mess. How's this gonna be ready for a thousand people in a few days?"

Fleur glanced around; the entire Sector Twelve accommodation block had been devastated by the Whiteout. Part of the roof had collapsed, sending debris across most of the site. "No one will be moving in here for a while," she agreed. "I think they're trying to bring Sector Thirteen up to standard as quickly as possible."

"That's a building site!" Cass exclaimed.

"It's a building site with a roof," Fleur pointed out. "Anyway, who knows if we'll need it, given our recent track record with new arrivals."

"Don't say that," Cass shot back. "I mean, they've got a good chance. They're making good progress with the repairs."

"You've changed your tune," Fleur grinned. "This wouldn't have anything to do with your recent nocturnal activities, would it?"

Cass frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"You've never volunteered for a night shift in your life, and then suddenly for the past week you've been up all hours, doing overtime, locked away in Tate's office? Come on."

Cass started to walk briskly towards the exit door, leaving Fleur jogging to keep up. "I'm just doing my bit, you know?" He called over his shoulder.

"And what bit would that be? Perhaps the bit that likes spending all night chatting to the cute Transporter Captain," she teased. "I overheard the technicians gossiping; it seems like you two have hit it off…"

"I'm just filling her in on Carpathia," Cass interrupted quickly. "She's curious. It's been seven years. That's a long time in deep space."

Fleur caught up with him and placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. "Cass, it's alright," she smiled. "But, just… you know."

"What?"

Fleur spoke quietly. "She's a long way from home and they're a long way from being safe. Don't get too attached too soon."

Cass laughed, unconvincingly. "Like I said, we're just talking about Carpathia. Don't worry." He rushed off in the direction of PAS.

Fleur rolled her eyes and followed.

* * *

President Tate frowned as he read the data before him. Across the desk, Stella reviewed her notes.

"I haven't seen atmospheric readings like this since we arrived," Tate muttered.

"It's a direct result of the Whiteout as far as we can tell," Stella explained. "It's sent everything into flux. It's going to stay like this for at least forty eight hours. Radiation, solar flare activity, electrical storms; it's like a minefield."

Tate rested his chin on his hands, thoughtfully. "How long can they stay in orbit?"

"Another eight hours, twelve at a push," Stella glanced at the data before her. "They've had to reroute a large amount of their power to the thermal shields, the engines won't cope for much longer."

"And the shields? How do they look?"

"At eighty percent," Stella shook her head. "Not enough."

"No," Tate sat back. "Attempting to enter our atmosphere in these circumstances would be suicide, and staying put is not an option; Hobson's choice."

"The team have been looking at one possibility," Stella handed Tate another data sheet. "The evacuation pods appear to be in good condition and will easily accommodate the remaining crew. There might be a way to plot a path for them through the hazards. It's risky, but it gives them their best shot."

"What do you need?"

"I've got the technicians working on adjusting our scanners to pick up the different atmospheric activity, but they say it's going to take at least twenty four hours to reprogram the navigational systems to make sense of the data. Without the computers, it will take a mathematical genius to accurately calculate the safest path through."

Tate raised an eyebrow. "He's going to get a big head."

Stella smiled. "I think it's already too late to avoid that."

* * *

"Good evening, Carpathia! It's a beautiful night; the sky is clear and the moons are riding high. Are you in the mood for love? Grab yourself a lass or laddie and, who knows? Tonight could be your lucky night."

Tipper stuck the needle on the record and sat back as a cheesy classic love song played out onto the airwaves. He smiled and relaxed in his chair, his good mood the result of a mixture of the counselling session he'd had with Trix this afternoon, and some more rather unorthodox self-medication he had lined up on the table in front of him. He picked up the paring knife and stuck the tip into the space poppy, smiling as it sprang open in his fingers. As he prepared the seed inside, he allowed his thoughts to drift back to his sisters. He'd felt calmer since his DBV session with Stella and the burning pain of his grief had settled into a more manageable dull ache. He had been so afraid that, when he closed his eyes, he would no longer be able to recall his sisters' faces, but now he found he had perfect recall of each of them; the way they spoke, their soft touch as they hugged him, the way they had teased him. He smiled to himself. Life was, for once, good.

A knock at the door disturbed his chain of thought. "Yes?"

The door opened and Cass and Fleur stepped in. Instinctively, Tipper palmed the poppy. "Officer Arsehole, Officer Curly Top," he beamed. "What's this? Can't keep away?"

"Evening, Tipper," Fleur smiled. "And how are you today?"

"Oh, you know," Tipper shrugged. "Busy bringing thoughtful comments and high quality musical entertainment to the masses. Yourselves?"

"Oh, you know," Fleur echoed. "Busy helping to prepare Forthaven for a thousand new arrivals," She looked around. "Obviously nothing as important as your….work."

Cass perched on the edge of Tipper's desk. "Hmm, what's this?" He picked up a stray piece of space poppy and held it between his fingers.

"Oooh, Cass," Fleur stepped forward to examine the fragment of plant. "I'd say that was definite contraband."

"I'd say that was at least two weeks in a holding cell," Cass nodded.

"Maybe a month?" Fleur patted Tipper on the shoulder. "Oh dear."

Tipper sighed. "What do you want?"

"Your assistant is requested by the President," Cass grinned. "I assume you'll be coming with us?"

Tipper stood wearily. "Like I have a choice…"

Fleur grinned and walked towards the door. "Although you might want to get rid of whatever you're hiding in your hand first."

Tipper dropped the remains of his space poppy into a drawer and grabbed his jacket. "I should start charging by the hour."

"That's the Carpathian spirit!" Cass muttered sarcastically, as he followed Tipper and Fleur out of the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Tate stared at the monitor in his office, watching the graphic of CT8 in orbit around Carpathia. He sighed and glanced at his watch. They were coming up on the eight hour mark, and their energy situation was about to go critical. He wasn't sure how much longer they could safely stay up there. He closed his eyes for a moment, casting his mind back to the fear and excitement he had felt on his arrival. He could remember it all as clear as if it were yesterday; stepping out into the fresh air, feeling the sandy, stony ground beneath his feet, holding up his new-born son so he could feel the sunlight on his face for the first time…

The sound of movement brought him back to the present. He opened his eyes, in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of something dashing out of his office. A boy. His boy? He was on his feet and running down the corridor in an instant. He saw a flash as something ran around the corner ahead. He increased his speed, dashing round the corner and ran straight into Julius Berger, knocking them both flying.

"Julius!" Tate exclaimed, as he scrambled to his feet. "My apologies. I…"

"Richard, are you alright?" Julius took Tate's proffered hand and pulled himself upright. "You're as white as a sheet."

"I saw…" Tate began, but then paused, thinking better of it. "Did a small child run past you?"

"No, I didn't see anyone," Julius smiled. "Should I ask the PAS Officers to keep a look out?"

"Yes... that might be…" Tate took a moment to regain his composure. "Yes, thank you Julius. There may be a lost child in the building."

"Gentlemen," Stella rounded the corner.

"Ah, just the woman," Julius smiled. "We appear to have a lost child wandering the halls."

"I'll put out an alert, although we do have rather more pressing matters," Stella said. "We're ready to bring the escape pods in."

* * *

There was an air of undisguised tension in the control room. Tate walked in, flanked by Stella and, much to Tate's displeasure, Julius, and headed to the main comm panel. To one side, Tipper sat huddled over a terminal, tapping numbers and occasionally calling out co-ordinates to a nervous looking operator to his left. Fleur stood towards the back of the room, conferring with Jack. Every so often one of them would speak quietly into a radio. Cass was the most animated. Tate noted him pacing the room like a caged tiger, unusually nervy.

"Is everything in place?" Tate questioned.

"Tipper has worked out the safest co-ordinates for the shuttles," Stella checked a monitor. "We've sent them over to CT8 and they're programming them in now."

"We're sending the ground co-ordinates to the teams outside, so they know roughly where each shuttle should come down," Tipper added. "It's not an exact science, mind you, but this'll give them a head start."

"Jack, are your teams ready?" Tate turned towards where Fleur and Jack stood.

"Yes. Twenty teams, mixed XPs and PAS, each with at least two medics, all moving into position now," Jack confirmed. "With your permission, as soon as the launch is underway, I'd like to get outside."

"Agreed. Fleur, Cass, you stay and co-ordinate the teams as they arrive back," Tate turned back to the monitors. "Are we ready?"

"If you don't mind," Julius interrupted, "I would like to take a moment to say a quiet prayer for the safe arrival of the shuttle crew."

"You can make that a silent prayer, Julius," Tate shot back. "The rest of us have work to do. CT8, do you read me?"

The monitor fizzed momentarily before the image of Jayne came into view.

"President Tate," she smiled. "Loud and clear. It's a good morning for a crash landing, wouldn't you say?"

"I like your optimism, Captain," Tate grinned. "How are your preparations?"

"We're ready this end. All passengers and non-essential crew are safely tucked up in their pods. There are just twenty of us left on the bridge. Once the first wave is away we will join the second. According to the statistics your chaps sent over, there should be enough time for us all to get away safely."

"I sincerely hope that is the case, Captain."

"So do I. I am reliably informed that I have a beer on ice waiting for me, courtesy of one of your PAS Officers."

Cass felt himself blush as he became aware of all the eyes in the room swivelling in his direction. The gossip had obviously spread beyond the night staff.

"Very smooth," Tipper smirked. Cass shot him a look.

Tate laughed. "That sounds like a good incentive."

"Right," Tipper was suddenly serious. "We're one hundred and twenty seconds away from the first drop window. We can get half the shuttles away before the conditions go against us again."

"Okay, we're ready," Jayne was all business. "Countdown started."

"One hundred ten… one hundred… ninety…" Tipper spoke quietly. The room seemed to come to a standstill as the countdown continued.

"Shuttles A through J, this is the captain speaking," On the monitor, Jayne spoke into a microphone. "We're 60 seconds from launch. Your harnesses are now locked down and the doors are sealed. Next time I see you, we'll all be Carpathians. Good luck. Over and out." She looked up to the monitor. "Fifty… forty…."

A faint voice could be heard in the bridge behind her. "Pods on standby to launch. All systems online."

"Thirty… twenty," Tipper continued. "Ten."

"Good luck CT8," Tate breathed.

"Five, four, three, two, one… launch," Tipper called.

"Launching," Jayne confirmed.

The observers in the ops room collectively held their breath; the only sound was the whispering of prayer from Julius. On screen, ten small blips appeared on the radar.

"Launch successful," Jayne smiled in relief. "They're away."

There was an audible exhale around the ops room, then a buzz of activity as they made preparations for the second launch and the first wave of landings.

"Next window in one hundred and eighty seconds," Tipper tapped at the keyboard. "The pods have entered the atmosphere, so far they're clear."

"Okay, evacuate the bridge," Jayne addressed her crew. "I'll be with you when I've engaged the auto flight systems."

Tate watched on the monitor as the crew filed out behind Jayne while she made final adjustments on her control panel.

"One hundred twenty. Captain, you need to leave," Tipper warned.

"Okay, transferring power," she nodded.

Suddenly the screen went dead. Immediately warning lights began flashing on the consoles in the ops room and an alarm sounded.

"What's going on?" Tate demanded.

"I don't know, we've lost contact, sir," one of the ops shouted over the wailing of the alarm system.

"Do everything you can, get them back," Stella was already at one of the consoles.

"The problem is their end, they've lost power to the communication systems," another operator called.

"Damnit," Tate cursed. "The pods?"

"All ten are right on target," Tipper confirmed. "They're through the worst of the atmospherics and should be landing within five minutes. Next launch in sixty seconds."

"Okay, Jack, go and join your teams, we'll keep you informed," Tate commanded.

"Sir," Jack quickly walked from the room, past Cass who stood, rooted to the spot, staring at the blank screen. Fleur walked to him and placed her hand on his back.

"Don't give up yet," she whispered.

"I didn't," Cass began. "I mean, I…"

"Carpathia, can you read me?" Jayne's voice broke through a hiss of static. Fleur felt Cass exhale in relief.

"We can hear you, but we can't see you Captain," Tate spoke quickly. "You have less than sixty seconds to the next launch. What's happening?"

"There's not enough power to engage the auto flight systems; when I tried it knocked everything out." The sound of alarms could be heard behind her. "I'll need to pilot us by hand into the drop zone."

"But Captain, how will you get to your shuttle?" Tate asked, already knowing the answer.

"Shuttles K through T, your doors are sealed and harnesses locked down. Launch is imminent. Good luck everyone, safe flight. Carpathia, how long? You need to count me in, I've lost most of my systems," Jayne spoke evenly.

"Thirty," Tipper muttered.

The ops room fell silent. Cass turned away to face the wall.

"Captain, who is left on the Bridge?" Tate said quietly.

"It only needs one person to get us into the drop zone, President," Jayne replied. "The ten pods?"

"They're clear," Tipper was quickly typing something into his system. "Ten, nine, eight..."

"Preparing launch," Jayne responded.

"Three, two, one, go."

"Launching."

A further ten pods appeared on the radar.

"They're away," Stella confirmed.

The ops room retained an eerie silence, save for Tipper's urgent tapping at his console.

"Well, I appear to find myself at something of a loose end," Jayne said. A loud alarm began to sound on board. "Structural integrity is failing. At least I won't be bored for too long."

"Captain, you have made a brave sacrifice…" Tate began.

"My job, President, that's all," Jayne interrupted quickly. "Cass, you there?"

Cass turned around. "Yes."

"Sorry to stand you up. I got a better offer," her voice wavered. "I always did prefer wine, anyway."

Cass laughed bitterly. "My mother told me never to trust a woman in uniform."

"Do those pods have a manual release?" Tipper was on his feet.

"What?" Tate was at his shoulder immediately.

"Do those pods have a manual release, when you're inside?" Tipper pressed.

"Yes, they do," the op next to him replied.

"Captain, listen. How long would it take you to run to the nearest shuttle?" Tipper asked.

"About a minute."

"Well, you better run fast," Tipper warned. "Because I'm going to give you a countdown, and you'll need to keep it going in your head while you run to that pod. When it hits zero you better be in there and activate that release. You've got one tiny chance."

"I'm ready," Jayne called above the sirens.

"Seventy," Tipper yelled.

They heard the sound of the bridge door sliding open and running footsteps, then silence.

"What's happening?" Cass was behind Tipper, looking at his screen.

"If the ship holds together long enough, and if it doesn't stray off course, and if she activates the release on time, then there's a tiny pocket of clear space. If she hits it right she could glide straight through," Tipper explained. "That's a lot of ifs, but it's all the chance she has."

"Excellent work," Tate patted his shoulder.

"All twenty pods are now safely in our atmosphere," the op next to Tipper smiled.

"Jack says the officers are standing by at the landing sites," Fleur confirmed.

"Thirty," Tipper tapped the screen. "Come on, Jayne."

"She's tough, she'll make it," Cass hissed under his breath.

"Twenty... ten… five, four, three, two, one, go."

They all watched the radar. Nothing. And then, suddenly, there was a shower of new blips on the screen.

"The ship is breaking up," Stella muttered.

"Did she get away?" Cass demanded.

"There's no way to know," the Op spoke. "We'll have to see what falls."

"I'm taking a search team out," Cass ran from the room in the direction of the PAS lockers.

"Fleur, go with him," Stella said. "Keep us updated."

"Of course," Fleur ran after Cass.

Tate and Stella stared at the radar, which was now littered with hundreds of tiny blips.

"Today, everyone is going to get here safely," Tate predicted. "Surely, we're due that much?"

"Let's keep hoping, Richard," Stella smiled, in a voice that she hoped conveyed more optimism than she felt.


	5. Chapter 5

Cass dashed into the locker room and grabbed his rucksack. He was pulling it over his shoulders as Fleur ran in behind him.

"Wait up," she ran to her locker and began pulling out her gear. "Her pod won't be in the atmosphere yet."

"Did Tipper say where she was coming down?" Cass asked.

"Not yet. I think they're going to scan the debris field," Fleur paused. "Cass, you know this is a long shot?"

Cass stared at her. "She's alive."

"Cass…"

"You coming, or what?" he asked, an edge to his voice.

"Let's go to the hill," Fleur sighed. "We can see more from there. I'll radio Jack, get him to send us some officers and a medic."

"Thank you," Cass ran his hand over his face. "I know what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking that it's nice to see you this rattled over someone," Fleur smiled. "It doesn't happen often for you, does it?"

Cass smiled grimly. "That's why she has to be alive."

"Then let's go find her, lover boy," Fleur teased, as she turned to leave.

"Alright," Cass followed behind. "But you ever call me that again and I'll kick your arse."

"You'll have to go through Jack first."

"So much the better."

* * *

The first of the morning sun was fighting against the last of the chill night air, as Cass and Fleur made their way to the top of the hill. Waiting for them were three XPs and three PAS Officers. Cass was relieved to note that Jack had sent his best tracker as part of the XP contingency.

"We're waiting on a medic," one of the XPs explained. "One of the shuttles lost its landing thrusters, and several of the passengers were injured."

"Are they seriously hurt?" Fleur asked.

"No. Broken bones, cuts and bruises, that kind of thing," the XP replied. "But they've got their hands full dealing with it."

They looked around. The landscape was now littered with pods, partially buried into the sand where they had impacted the ground. A seemingly endless stream of disoriented people were slowly making their way towards the Forthaven gates, shepherded by PAS and XPs alike.

"I don't envy them," Cass mused. "The first few years were the worst."

"It's exciting," Fleur smiled. "New people, new opportunities. It's going to change the dynamics with all these new faces around the place."

"The ship's all but burned out now," one of the PAS Officers said as he stared at the sky, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. "If that shuttle's coming, we should know about it in the next few minutes."

"We might not see it," Cass interjected. "It might come down on the opposite side of the planet."

"They're scanning the atmosphere," Fleur soothed. "If… when, it comes down, we'll know."

"Stella, any news?" Cass spoke into his radio.

"We're doing another sweep now, sit tight," came the response.

"Tipper, any word on possible co-ordinates?" Cass persisted.

"Hard to tell," Tipper's voice was distracted. "I'm trying to calculate it now, but without knowing the precise angle of entry, it's almost impossible."

"Cass, we've got something," Stella interrupted. "Large object, moving faster than the other debris. Three minutes to impact. I'm sending the co-ordinates over now."

"Got it," the Tracker studied the readout on his radio. "Three klicks North-East of here. This way." He strode off quickly, the rest of the team following close behind.

Fleur stole a glance at Cass while they walked. As always, when Cass was determined, his jaw was set and his eyes focused. She had no idea what had passed between him and the Captain during their late night conversations, but whatever it was it had made an obvious impact. Not that anyone else would necessarily pick up on it, but she knew that this was the closest Cass would get to wearing his heart on his sleeve. Fleur had struggled with her feelings for Cass for several years, before finally accepting that he would never be partner-material and was definitely better kept in the 'just good friends' category. Not that she particularly considered Jack to be partner-material either, but things were swiftly moving in that direction anyway, regardless.

"Base to search team," Stella's voice came over the radio again.

"We read you," Cass responded.

"It's definitely the shuttle, we're picking up an energy trace from the thrusters," Stella sounded tense. "But we're also seeing an abnormally high temperature signal. It's burning up."

Cass shrugged off his rucksack and broke into a run. Fleur followed suit, as did the Tracker.

"You should be able to see it over the next hill," the Tracker called as they ran.

Fleur felt Cass accelerate as they pelted up the hill. He pulled ahead of them, his long legs easily negotiating the rocky terrain. Suddenly he came to an abrupt stop.

"Shit!"

Fleur pulled up next to him and followed his gaze. Ahead of them was the shuttle, partially embedded into the sand. It was engulfed in flames.

"I'm sorry," Fleur began.

"No," Cass muttered. "No!" He yelled and took off at a sprint towards the stricken pod.

"Cass, no!" Fleur ran after him. "It's too dangerous."

The heat from the blaze was incredible as Fleur neared the shuttle. She could see no way to get close without being beaten back by the flames, which were now licking several feet into the sky. They veered to the left, running around the side of the pod, Cass's eyes desperately searching for the hatch. Then they reached the front of the shuttle and stopped dead once more.

Rudi was bent double, coughing, his clothes and face blackened with soot. Next to him, motionless on the ground, lay Jayne.

"Rudi," yelled Fleur.

At once he spun round. His eyes travelled behind Fleur, to the approaching team of PAS and XPs.

"Go back," Fleur called to them. They paused, unsure.

"That's an order," Cass shouted, his eyes not leaving the stricken Captain. "Go back over the hill. Now!"

Reluctantly the team backed away.

"Rudi," Fleur stepped forward slowly. "May we see her?"

Rudi regarded Cass through narrowed eyes. "Is this your woman?"

"No," Cass replied quickly. "She's just arrived."

"You haven't taken your eyes from her since you got here," Rudi observed. Cass stared back at him, lost for words.

"She risked her life to save her crew," Fleur interjected. "A thousand people. Please, give her to us."

"She needs your doctors," Rudi stepped back.

Fleur rushed to Jayne and checked her over, while Cass remained at a distance, wary of doing anything to provoke him.

"She's breathing," Fleur confirmed. "Her pulse is erratic. Head wound, she's lost some blood. We need to get her to the infirmary."

"I would not have risked my life if I meant to harm her," Rudi spoke evenly.

"Are you alright?" Fleur asked. "I can have a medic check you."

"There is no need," He turned and began to walk away. "Now take your woman and leave here."

"Thank you," Cass said.

Rudi paused for a moment, and turned back. The two men regarded each other.

"Do not come out here again," Rudi warned. He turned and walked away and soon disappeared behind a crop of rocks.

Cass ran to Jayne. Fleur was speaking urgently into her radio.

"Where are the medics?" he demanded.

"Still at least four kilometres away," she frowned.

"Take this." He pulled off his gun belt and handed it to Fleur. Then he scooped Jayne into his arms and began to run in the direction of Forthaven, leaving Fleur to radio the infirmary with news of their incoming patient.


	6. Chapter 6

The regular bleep of the monitors was almost soporific, only punctuated by the odd whirr and hiss of the oxygen line. Cass suddenly felt very tired; the combination of lack of sleep and the exertion of the past few hours having caught up with him. He shifted in his chair and stretched out his arms, rotating his shoulders. He brought his hands to rest on the bed before him and, tentatively, ran his fingers over Jayne's arm, bringing them to rest lightly in her palm. She did not stir.

Cass watched the sleeping Captain. She was smaller than he imagined. He realised how odd that seemed, but it was the truth. On the monitor, in orbit around Carpathia, heroically risking her life to save her crew, he had imagined some tall, battling, Amazonian creature, but here, lying in a hospital bed, she just looked small and human. And fragile. Cass got the distinct impression that fragile was not a description attributed to Jayne Williams very often. Certainly not when she was awake, anyway. It was all in the eyes. They lit up her face when she smiled, and danced with mischief when she made a joke, but all the time there was something behind them. Something determined. Cass saw it come to the fore one evening, when he had asked her about her life back on Earth. She had fixed him with a look that, even through the fuzzy picture on the monitor, unmistakeably told him to back off, before changing the subject. Since then, he had instinctively felt himself drawn to her. He understood. His fingers stroked her palm, absent-mindedly. He just wanted her to wake up.

"She's doing well?" Tate stood at the end of the bed, accompanied by Stella.

Cass's head snapped up. He had been so lost in thought he hadn't heard them arrive. He quickly pulled his hand away from Jayne's and stood.

"She's fairly unscathed, considering," Stella began. "Concussion, loss of blood, a couple of stitches, a first degree burn on her left arm, smoke inhalation. Pretty minor stuff for someone who just dropped out of the sky and hit an electric storm en route for good measure."

"When will she wake up?" Tate asked.

"Soon, I would imagine," Stella walked to one of the machines and checked a readout. "She'll have quite a headache."

"How are the others?" Cass enquired.

"Mostly very well," Stella looked over Jayne as she spoke. "Relieved, a little overawed, but in good health overall. The occupants of the crashed pod are being treated for a minor injuries and their physicians are working with us on one or two passengers with some mental health issues, but nothing we can't easily cope with."

"I told you," Tate smiled. "Today everyone got here alive. We were overdue some good news."

"It appears so, yes," Stella walked back to join Tate at the foot of the bed. "And in small thanks to the ACs, I hear."

"Yes," Cass raised an eyebrow. "Rudi pulled Jayne… Captain Williams from the pod just in time."

"First the whiteout and now this?" Tate ventured. "A small step forward, perhaps?"

"I dunno if I'd go that far," Cass grimaced. "Human decency, perhaps."

"Well, I'll take my small miracles where I can find them," Tate walked to the door. "Cass, you should get some rest, you look exhausted."

"In a while. I'd rather stay here until she wakes up…" Cass trailed off.

"Of course," Stella smiled. "But you know, Cass, patients who come around after being unconscious later report that they liked it when they woke up to someone holding their hand."

Tate and Stella stepped through the door into the corridor before they could see Cass blush a deep crimson. He settled himself back in his seat. After a few moments he slid his hand into Jayne's and gripped it tightly.

* * *

The first thing she knew was that it hurt. Her head throbbed like her brain was trying to hammer its way out of her skull. She groaned and opened her eyes, feeling a searing pain rip through her pupils as they adjusted to the bright light in the room. _Where the hell am I?_ She tried to bring her hand to her head, but something tugged at her arm. She looked down; an IV line ran from a clear bag suspended high above her body into her forearm. There was some kind of dressing on her upper arm and whatever wound lurked underneath stung like crazy. She felt something across her face - an oxygen line? She could feel the cold air being blown up her nose. She breathed deeply, and realised her lungs felt like someone had been at them with a cheese grater. She looked down. She was wearing what looked like a hospital gown. _What the hell happened to me?_

Slowly, fragments of memory drifted back into place; the power failure on CT8, the mad dash to the shuttle, the manual release, an almighty bang and a jolt which knocked her off her feet before she had chance to engage her harness and then not much at all. She had a vague recollection of an intense heat, and someone grabbing her arms, pulling at her, but it was hazy at best. She smiled ruefully to herself; w_elcome to Carpathia, Jayne. Way to make one hell of an entrance….. is that someone snoring?_

She turned to see the top of a head, covered in short dark brown hair, resting on her hand. The owner of the head was sat in a chair, his arms folded on the bed, one hand gripping hers tightly. He was sound asleep.

"Sleeping on the job again, Cromwell?" she whispered, amused. Her breath caught in her throat and she began coughing violently. Cass woke with a start and looked up, confused. Jayne sat forward, doubling over as the coughs wracked through her chest.

"It's alright, it's alright," Cass rubbed her back gently. "It's smoke inhalation, it'll pass. Don't try to speak."

Eventually Jayne regained her composure and sank back into the pillows. "Don't try to speak? You don't know me very well yet, do you?"

Cass smiled; a broad, easy grin that immediately made her relax. "You need to rest."

"The others?" She sat forward again as her memory cleared. "My crew, are they…"

"All fine," Cass interrupted. He gently guided her to lie back again. "A few cuts and scrapes, but everyone got here. Everyone survived. You all made it. They're fine."

She closed her eyes in relief. When she opened them again a tear fell. She swiped it away quickly, Cass noted. Jayne Williams was obviously not a woman who cried easily.

"I must see them." Jayne sat up and pulled the covers back. Almost immediately a dizzy spell took her and she fell forwards. Cass caught her and lay her back down on the bed, before resolutely tucking the covers around her.

"You're staying put," he pronounced. "Your crew will still be here tomorrow, and the day after, and even the day after that. You won't be if you carry on the way you're going. Now lie down and shut up, or I'll knock you out again," he added, smiling.

"Like you knocked yourself out just now?" She raised an eyebrow. "That's twice you've fallen asleep on me, Mr PAS Officer. Doesn't bode well for that date you promised."

"Hang on, it was just a beer earlier," Cass grinned. "Now it's a date?"

"Yeah, well I had to get a good look at you before I made my mind up." She coughed again, less violently this time. Cass poured her a glass of water. "Thank you."

"Well, I'm glad I measure up," he winked.

"I don't know about that," she murmured. "Yet. Let's just say you have potential."

The glint in her eye was back, and Cass decided he liked it. A lot.

* * *

Julius Berger peered through the viewing glass at the door, watching Cass and Jayne with a sense of growing irritation. _Typical Tate,_ he thought, _posting one of his most senior PAS Officers to babysit the new Captain, just to be sure she can't be accessed by anyone Tate might disapprove of._ He had been hoping to speak to the new arrival before she had been given a full debrief; he wanted to get a feeling for which way she might fall once everything changed. A Captain leading a crew of one thousand people could be very useful, or very dangerous, depending on her political leanings. However, she would have to keep for the time being. It was not a discussion he cared to have in front of Tate's right hand man.

Julius walked on towards the main ward. He smiled and nodded at the medical staff as he passed them by. He wandered past the row of beds and shared a few pleasantries with the patients he found. None of them were in uniform, just passengers, wives, children and the like. No-one of any particular importance, but still, it couldn't hurt to appear like the concerned councillor.

"Doctor, how are the patients?" Julius smiled.

"These people will be released soon," the doctor consulted a data pad. "We have a few who will require an overnight stay. We'll be keeping the captain in for a day or two."

"I'd like to speak with the people, if that's okay," Julius' face creased into a look of concern. "Welcome them to their new home, allay any fears."

A nurse approached. "Excuse me doctor, Psych are asking for you."

"Psych?" Julian interrupted.

"One or two of our new arrivals have some psychological problems," the Doctor explained. "Normal in these circumstances. If you'll excuse me."

"Maybe I could counsel them, being a new arrival myself?" Julius offered.

"We'll get the psych evaluations done first," the Doctor began to walk away. "In the meantime, I'm sure these patients would appreciate your guidance."

Julius frowned at the doctor's retreating back. Crazies and nobodies. He wanted to speak to that Captain. He wanted her on side.

And what Julius wanted, he invariably got.


	7. Chapter 7

"Come back to bed." Jack reached out to Fleur, his fingers grazing her thigh.

"I'll be late," she smiled. "I've got a busy day."

"It can wait five minutes," Jack drawled. "Come here."

"No!" Fleur rubbed a towel over her hair. "The security briefing is in thirty minutes. You should be there too."

"I've got better things to do than listen to Tate bang on about how we need to babysit a whole new bunch of people," he pouted. "Like stay in bed with you. Let Cass handle it."

"Yeah, right," she laughed. "I think his mind is elsewhere."

"I know how he feels," Jack jumped up and wrestled her back onto the bed. "I've got my mind on you."

"Jack!" She giggled. "Okay, five minutes."

"Now you're talking."

* * *

Jayne pulled the vest over her head, taking care not to catch the bandage on her arm, or the stitches in her forehead. She felt relieved to be out of her hospital gown and into the PAS-issue clothing that Stella had, grudgingly, provided. Grudgingly, because Stella had protested loudly that Jayne needed at least another twenty four hours under observation, and shouldn't be 'gallivanting around an alien planet in that state'. Jayne smiled at the recalled conversation from this morning; what she had seen of Stella she already liked.

"Am I disturbing you?" An American-accented, male voice broke into her thoughts.

Jayne spun around. As she did a wave of dizziness swept over her and she put her hand out to a nearby table to steady herself.

"Allow me, please," The man rushed forward and guided her to the bed, helping her to sit down. He poured her a glass of water. "Here, take a sip."

Jayne took a mouthful of water and waited for the dizzy sensation to subside. As she did she gave the man a quick once over. Tall – not as tall as Cass, but certainly taller than her, with short, brown, wavy hair and very pale skin. He was handsome, in that all-American apple pie way. She smiled at him. "Thanks. Concussion. It takes some getting used to."

"Should you be out of bed? I mean, should I get the doctor?" The man's face was full of concern.

"No, I probably shouldn't be out of bed," she shrugged. "But hey, what are rules if not to be broken?"

The man gave a wide smile and something seemed to flash across his eyes briefly. "I'm Julius. Julius Berger, a member of the council. It's an honour to meet you, Captain."

"Oh please," she grinned, shaking his proffered hand, "Jayne will do. What's a captain without a ship?"

"You still have a crew; a loyal one," Julius settled next to her.

"I'm every bit as loyal to them," Jayne explained. "Seeing so many of your friends and family die makes you appreciate those around you."

"I understand," he nodded. "I am a recent arrival myself. Our transporter crashed, only a small number of us were able to land safely. It hit many of us hard."

"I'm sorry." She put her hand on his arm and quickly Julius covered it with his own.

"Oh, listen to me," his voice cracked slightly and he cleared his throat. "I came to see if I could offer you support, not the other way around."

"Well, I'll be fine, once I've checked in with everyone." She eased herself to her feet, gently, trying to ignore the new wave of dizziness which threatened to overwhelm her.

"Of course," Julius stood. "With your permission I would like to escort you. I counselled some of your crew yesterday, and I am anxious to see how they are this morning."

She smiled at him in genuine gratitude. "Thank you, I really appreciate that."

As they moved towards the door, he noticed her grimace in pain. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I think I twisted something in the crash," she confided. "But for God's sake don't tell anyone or they'll have me strapped to that bed for a fortnight."

Julius tapped his nose. "Your secrets are safe with me. But please," he held out an arm to her, "at least allow me to offer a little physical assistance."

"Thank you, Julius. You're very kind." Jayne took his arm and allowed him to guide her into the corridor.

"The pleasure is mine," Julius smiled, as they headed for the next ward.

* * *

Cass checked his watch surreptitiously. Eleven A.M. They had been in this briefing for an hour already, and it showed no sign of ending soon. He tapped his foot impatiently and glanced around the room. Fleur, Tate and Stella were engaged in conversation about how to recruit PAS officers from the new settlers. Jack just looked half asleep. The other council members looked on interestedly, while, for once, Berger had absented himself; claiming a pressing engagement. Cass glanced at his watch again. Two minutes past eleven. He hated meetings.

Cass wondered how Jayne was doing. He had heard Stella call her 'stubborn as a mule' earlier, while telling Tate that Jayne was refusing to stay in the infirmary for a second day. He had hoped to see her before his shift started this morning, but he was called in early to deal with a fight and by the time he had both parties separated and secured it had been time for the briefing. He had enjoyed spending time with her the previous day, even though she was concussed and doped to the eyeballs. Cass smiled to himself; maybe that was why she seemed to like his company too.

"So, you are in agreement, Cass?" Tate enquired.

Cass stared at him, bemused. He flicked a glance at Fleur, who gave him a meaningful look and nodded slightly. "Err...yes, of course."

"Then that's agreed," Tate sat back. "Is there anything else?"

There was general shaking of heads around the table.

"Then this meeting is concluded," Tate announced.

Cass crossed the room as the assembled group began to leave. "What did I just agree to?"

"I'll explain later," Fleur smiled. "You're unbelievable."

"At least I kept my eyes open, unlike your boyfriend," he teased. "Are you keeping him up all night?"

"Do you see him complaining?" She winked.

"Cass, do you have a moment?" Tate called.

"Oops, you're in trouble now," Fleur laughed. "I'm going up to the new settlement, come and find me later."

"Will do," Cass walked over to where Tate waited.

"I'm going to see how our new Captain is coming along. That is if Stella hasn't already driven her over the perimeter wall with her fussing," Tate said. "Care to join me?"

"Yeah," Cass smiled as he fell into step next to the president.

They walked in silence for a few moments.

"You appear to have hit it off, the two of you," Tate ventured. "Stella says she had to force you to go home to rest last night"

"Jayne's interesting," Cass mumbled, uncomfortable. "You know, someone new to chat to."

"Of course," Tate nodded, smiling. "So, what's she like?"

"I dunno, smart?" Cass mused. "Determined… stubborn as a mule?"

Tate laughed. "So I hear. Cass, I need to consider whether she is someone I can work with, long term. With such a large number of new arrivals, it is important that we integrate some of their number into the decision making process in Forthaven."

"I don't know much about that," Cass shrugged. "But, someone who was willing to give up their life to save their crew? I'd quite like them on my team."

"My thoughts precisely," Tate agreed, as they walked through the doors into the ward. "And, it appears, someone else thinks so too."

Ahead of them they saw Jayne, sat beside a bed, laughing with a female patient. Julius was perched on the end of the bed, sharing the joke.

"Pressing business to attend to?" Tate muttered. "So it seems."

Jayne appeared to say her goodbyes to the woman and went to rise. Julius was there in an instant to help her to her feet. As they walked further down the ward Cass noted Julius slip his arm around her. From nowhere, an uncomfortable ball of jealousy knotted inside his stomach. He pushed it down quickly, chiding himself.

"Captain," Tate called. "May I have a moment of your time?"

Jayne turned gingerly, obviously still in some discomfort, however as soon as she saw Cass her face broke into a wide smile.

"President Tate," she beamed, "of course."

Jayne made her way towards the men, supported by Julius.

"Please, call me Richard. And I do hope you're not out of bed too soon," Tate raised an eyebrow.

She waved a hand. "Just a bit stiff and sore, I'll be better for moving around." Her eyes flicked to Cass. "Good morning, I was going to come and find you later. Take you up on that offer of a tour."

"I'd be happy to show you Forthaven," Julius interrupted.

"Oh, thank you Julius, but I've taken up so much of your time already today," she smiled. "You have been too kind to me and my crew."

"Yes, thank you Julius," Tate added. "However, Cass has arranged to take the Captain to the new settlement to see the rest of her crew, and I would like to speak with her myself. I'm sure you've been very helpful."

A look of annoyance flitted across Julius' face, but he hid it quickly. "It's been my pleasure, Jayne. I hope we can talk again soon."

"I would like that very much," she said.

"Goodbye, Julius," Tate smiled. Berger nodded and made his way from the ward. Tate watched him go. "Captain, would you care for some lunch?"

"Jayne, please. And that would be great. But first, would you mind if we made a stop at the Psych ward? Two of my crew are being looked after, and I'm anxious to check on them."

"Certainly, this way," Tate began to walk down the ward.

"Would you like me to help you?" Cass offered his arm.

"Thanks, Cass," she slipped her arm in his and gave his forearm a squeeze. "Lunch with the president and then a guided tour from PAS's finest? I think I'm going to like it here."


End file.
